


Nameless

by Abandoning_The_Crown



Series: A Jedi and a Purge Trooper [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Fights, Gen, Injury Recovery, Minor Violence, Missing in Action, POV Second Person, Planet Kashyyyk (Star Wars), Reader is a Purge Trooper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abandoning_The_Crown/pseuds/Abandoning_The_Crown
Summary: The blue plasma burned worse than anything you have ever been injured with - and so did his eyes. His incredibly attentive, knowing eyes that seemed unfitting for his young face.
Relationships: Cal Kestis & Reader, Cal Kestis/Reader
Series: A Jedi and a Purge Trooper [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090337
Comments: 12
Kudos: 72





	Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on this story! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

* * *

* * *

You have been watching for a while. Just observing, tracking his movements, listening into the short phrases spoken into your frequency, announcing that yet another unit was down.

You already knew that. You watched.

The Jedi was obviously skilled, despite being so very young - his fighting technique was based on pure instincts, movements sharp and polished. He was a killing machine, an indestructible one. He led his enemies on and on, blocking, dodging and finally delivering deadly blows when they were least expected. Throughout his entire visit on Kashyyyk he has been injured only once, when he got surrounded by a group of scout troopers and they started attacking at the same time, one of them managing to land a hit to the back of his head. You watched as he rolled out of the way, grunting when his body swayed slightly, thrown off balance, and then he carried on. The squad was wiped out within minutes.

It was surprising that he didn't notice you following him. You've heard of the increased awareness the Jedi possessed, you have studied it, memorized it, drilled it into your skull during training. When he didn't even turn to look your way the moment your boot landed in the dirt with a quiet 'splosh', you knew that he was simply pretending not to notice you.

Why? You tilted your head slightly as you gazed at his moving form through the scope of your trusty DC-15LE. You breathed a sigh through your nose when your comms crackled to life, only to go down again, static filling your ears until you turned it off completely.

One more squad down. This was going to be a problem.

He had entered the refinery, and you recalled the positioning of Imperial forces within it, wondering how long it will take for the red-headed Jedi to take down one of your kind that waited just further ahead.

You watched the windows of the refinery flash with bright blue, ears picking up the distant sounds of screaming.

He was slaughtering your men. He was vicious, you realized, and no matter how the Jedi tried to spin the truth around, they weren't all that different from you. They had blood on their hands, nameless. You would have blood on your hands, soon. But this blood would have a name. It would be the blood of Cal Kestis.

* * *

You knew what to expect when facing him. Not only was the Jedi agile and skilled in close combat, he was also able to deflect blaster bolts with nothing more than a quick movement of his hand. You jumped out of the way when it happened, clenching your teeth as blood started pumping, adrenaline bringing a feeling suspiciously close to enjoyment. The deflected bolts hit the closest standing troopers, yet you didn't spare a glance to them. No, they weren't important. All you needed was right there, in front of you, wielding a bright blue lightsaber with a focused expression on his pale face.

You made sure to keep away and to roll out of his reach whenever he got too close, the deadly weapon humming as it cut the air. You blasted him, one of the crackling red bolts clipping the side of his leg, temporarily slowing his movements. He cried out for help, and your attention homed in on the small droid positioned on the Jedi's back; the droid tossed its owner a stim canister, and you licked your lips as you watched the Jedi use it on himself. Good. The fight would be longer.

He was quick and frantic to finish this, to finally kill you, to sink his lightsaber deep into your ribcage, just like he did with the others. But you weren't like the others. You were superior, trained, and far, far more patient than him. You were a Purge Trooper, and you knew everything about the Jedi.

The power you had over him felt amazing. You could easily predict his movements, could easily block his attacks; you even landed a few good hits using the butt of your rifle. He was getting tired, you could see it in the desperation that quickened his blows. Hah! If this kept up, you would soon be able to strangle him with your bare hands.

Greedy, you moved closer to him, eyes narrowing behind your visors when he backed away. You were never the talkative type, not when all of your focus went into the fight itself, yet at that moment, you couldn't help breathing out a genuine, curious " _Are you afraid?_ "

He flinched at the sound of your voice, brows furrowing as he watched you carefully, dodging yet another blast of your rifle. _No,_ you thought, going after him as he attempted to put more distance between you. _Come back, Jedi!_

You circled the area, not quite knowing what game he was playing now. Had he decided to flee? Was he truly inferior to you, even with the Force at his disposal? A smirk made its way onto your face, and you aimed your rifle at his moving figure. One, two, three, four. You stepped aside when the last bolt was reflected back, whizzing right past the side of your head.

Aware of the fall behind you, you took a step forward, then another one. The clang of metal was drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears.

You dodged to the side when he ran and lunged at you, his lightsaber burning through the red pauldron resting on your right shoulder. That was new. He followed your movements again, only this time he was the one to avoid your melee attack, and his foot came in contact with your knee, hard. You grunted as that slowed you enough for him to land another hit in, this time slicing right through your chestplate. Not deep enough to inflict a fatal wound, but enough to cripple you and send you stumbling backwards; you raised your blaster rifle again, only to witness it get cut clean in two, nearly taking your entire hand with it. You felt it in your fingers, the pain bubbling to the surface. You looked up in disbelief; the blue plasma burned worse than anything you have ever been injured with - and so did his eyes. His incredibly attentive, knowing eyes that seemed unfitting for his young face.

What _did_ he know? You grabbed a spare pistol that was tucked away into your belt. He wouldn't be able to dodge, he was too close, now was your chance.

His eyes never left yours. A shiver ran down your spine, something akin to a feeling of delirious excitement rushing through you. Your hands, stained with his blood. Blood that would have a name to it: _Cal Kestis._ The first Jedi you have ever killed.

You hesitated.

The trigger was never pulled.

Your mind reeled when he raised his hand, gloved fingers trembling - and then you felt it. The world slowed, yet he seemed to move at the exact same speed as before.

No.

_No!_

It burned so _bad._ You gasped for air helplessly, feeling the wound stretch across your left shoulder and to your right hip, long, deep, going through your armor and leaving an ugly, bright orange mark.

You saw him position his lightsaber the way that only suggested he was planning on impaling you with it - and so you acted, numb fingers pressing against the activation button of a shock grenade and clipping it off your belt.

Electricity tore through your body, momentarily stunning you and forcing a scream from your mouth; the Jedi collapsed to one knee, shouting out in pain as blue lingered all around you for a good couple of seconds.

Then there was a sound in your ears - a screeching sound, incredibly loud. You screamed again, ears hurting as you frantically reached for your helmet, unclasping it and almost ripping it off your head, only to throw it as far away from you as you could. Your face hurt, and there was blood coming from your mouth. You must have bitten your tongue. Thoughts turned to mush inside of your aching skull, the suit wasn't shockproof, no, _no_ , it wasn't. It hurt so _kriffing_ much.

Exhausted and ready to pass out, you collapsed face first onto the durasteel floor, the clang of your armor against it echoing in the space around you. _Where was the Jedi?_ Was the only coherent thought on your mind, and you trembled with the aftermath of the damage done to your tired body.

A boot nudged your shoulder, and you were turned over to face the ceiling; the tell-tale sound of a lightsaber igniting once again informed you of the fate you had to suffer now, yet for some reason, you panicked. Body rigid and tense, you gazed up at the Jedi standing above you, his chest heaving and eyes - were they green, or were they blue? - glued to your unmasked face.

"Well?" you asked, unable to keep the shake from your voice. "What're you waiting for, Jedi?"

He stood still, hand clenched tight around the hilt of that mesmerizing weapon. He stared, refusing to look away from your face, as if something in your appearance had baffled him, confused him. As if he saw something he wasn't supposed to see. Something terrible, bewildering. Was he surprised to not see a clone under the shiny black helmet that he now held in his uncovered hand?

You chuckled hoarsely. It will most likely be a clone in the near future. A clone will take your place. You weren't important to the Empire, you were expendable. Your achievements weren't yours, and your life wasn't yours either. You were an excellent tool that was now broken. Useless. There were thousands of replacements, yet probably none of them would have been able to hold the red-headed Jedi off for so long. You weren't like the others. Your blood wasn't nameless.

Your vision blurred and then cold, unfeeling darkness came.

You thanked the Jedi for his mercy.

* * *

* * *

The Mantis took off, and a course for Zeffo was set. Cal stood by the holotable, eyes focused on the blue and green planet before him, yet mind far away. BD-1 inquired if he was alright as soon as the droid heard him breathe out an exhausted sigh, to which Kestis simply smiled.

"Cal, may I have a word?"

Cere had risen from her co-pilot seat and now stood before him, hands crossed and brows furrowed in concern as she waited for his reply. The young Jedi blinked, getting out of his thoughts, and nodded. "What is it, Cere?"

The woman pressed her lips tightly together, as if carefully choosing her words. When she finally spoke, she sounded calm, yet there was a hint of nervousness present in her tone, as if she was holding back from letting agitation seep into her thoughts. "What did you see?"

He knew what she was talking about. Cal eyed her for a second, hesitant to share the information he had gathered during the fight. Could he even share something so private? He had to. Cere was on his side, she had proven it over and over again, and trust had to go both ways.

"That Purge Trooper hasn't killed a single Jedi." he finally spoke. "First, there was anger. Fear. Then there was hurt. Desperation. All of these overwhelming emotions that..." he cut himself off, pausing to think how to continue. "... that faded. Gave place to sadness."

He turned fully towards Cere. "When an opportunity presented itself, I was left unharmed. Instead, I was the one who went for the kill."

"You did what you had to." she spoke softly, yet there was a note of confidence to her voice. "And I trust your judgement, Cal. We all do."

BD-1 beeped in agreement at his side, and Cal smiled faintly. "I hope it was the right thing to do."

Cere said nothing else, simply returned his smile with one of her own and walked back to the cockpit. BD-1 stayed sitting at the holotable, browsing through the maps, and Cal turned around, heading for his room.

His eyes immediately fell on the Purge Trooper that slept on his bunk, still pale and weak, but at least breathing. The healing stims and bacta spray did wonders to the burns, and Cal hoped for a quick recovery.

What was he going to do? He had seen things that should have been left buried along with your body, hidden from prying eyes, forgotten. Humiliation, disappointment; misery. The feeling of being expendable, he was familiar with that. He was familiar with fear, too.

But there was hope. Not just inside of him, but inside of you - hope for a change, recognition. Hope for a better life, perhaps.

You weren't a clone. You weren't like the others.

He wondered what your name was.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a heart if you liked my work, and thank you for reading!


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